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Happy Early Earth Day!

Happy early Earth Day! Although two days early I wanted to be sure I didn’t forget.

In fact, I think we have been really celebrating Earth Day for the past 5 months, decreasing our energy consumption (we don’t really have a choice here!), water consumption, and food consumption…basically reducing our consumption…of everything (except for maybe rice and pirated DVDs…consumption on those has definitely gone up!). We are living by the seasons which dictates so much of life here.

Seasons here are marked properly, in the agricultural tradition of seasonal cycles of fruits and vegetables. It makes me laugh now to think how “novel” this idea has become at home. We were full fledged participants of local and seasonal eating habits back in Vancouver and of course I knew it wasn’t a new idea. Much of my childhood was spent in summer eating only food from the family garden and in winter devouring all that freshness through home canning and preserving. However, when I returned to this idea as a young adult it was different – it was more glamorous to eat locally, more trendy to know a farmer, and more fancy-pants to consider your food miles before tucking in to a nice meal.

I had been fooled. Local eating is one of the least fancy and least trendy habits of most of the world. In Kathmandu, gardens pop up between apartments, appear from behind office buildings, or can be found hidden down the most unsuspecting alleyway. In fact, I would bet that MOST of my fruits and vegetables come from within a 20 kilometer circumference. And those that come from outside that distance come from our neighbouring country, India…eating locally is economically sustainable to most people here and provides the majority livelihood for the majority of Nepali citizens. And the best part is that long-distance, imported options in the produce department simply are not available! Here, eating locally is a real, humble, and humane act of necessity!

Tonight we are celebrating the fact that we have just moved through orange and lime season (from about November to February) and are moving into mango season! But the best part is this is just phase one of at least a four-phase mango season. Four distinct varieties will grace our plates this monsoon from now until about August and I look forward to trying them all – in lassis, curry, on yogurt, in muesli, slathered on toast, dipped in local coconut shreds, or drizzled with honey 🙂

So, our first crack at a cooked mango recipe was an adaptation of this delectable mango loaf. Compliments to Rachelle S. who posted the recipe – I have shown my adapted version below for your perusal. And I must admit that I hesitated to share it since I know that the majority of you DO NOT live in local mango growing areas…hmmm ethical dilemma. So, I share it with you and trust that you will use it sparingly and in good conscience and wherever possible source your own local produce, not because it is trendy or cool, but because it is one of the nicest things you can do for the planet.

3 cups flour
1 cup sugar
3 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup milk
2 eggs
1 cup oil
1 cup diced mango (about 2 medium mangos)

Preheat oven to 400F. Grease & flour loaf pan. In large bowl, sift flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Stir in milk, eggs, and butter. Mix until flour is just incorporated. Do not over mix. Gently stir in mangos. Pour the batter into the pan and bake for 40 minutes.

Makes 1 loaf.

Honouring Fridays: April 3rd, 2009

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As you read this I am slowly making my way to Chitwan to bask in the tropical, humid, and hot jungles of Nepal. If it makes you feel less jealous of me, you can bet that I am likely dripping with sweat, stickily uncomfortable while crammed into a small car with a dozen other people, and perhaps even stuck on some mud track somewhere either due to a road bloackade and protest or a landslide which has wiped the road clean away! But your jealously is not about to detract from the single most exciting thing in the past 4 months: I am about to ride an elephant 🙂

Falafel. In efforts to expand my culinary repertoire I embarked on the ambitious and satisfying task of making falafel. Mashed chick peas with spices, cilantro, grated carrots (my own addition for extra veg), sesame seeds, garlic and onion fried up in small patties to golden brown then stuffed into a warm, fresh, hand-rolled tortilla and topped with grilled paneer and a cabbage, carrot, and tomato salad. Intense flavours and soul-satisfying textures. A meal to remember! And stunningly, uses all the same ingredients as my curry dinners but tastes totally different.
Culinary basics. I have come to the conclusion that much of the worlds unique culinary flavours are still based on the same core ingredients. I made a mexican, indian, and middle-eastern fare this week and used almost identical ingredients for everything – flour tortillas/roti, beans, tomatos, coriander, various veggies, garlic, onions, chilies, and rice! By varying the spices slightly and cooking them in different ways, the result was 3 very distinct meals. Kudos to our great agricultural forebearers who cultivated such adaptable, hearty, and basic ingredients that find themselves on tables all over the world.
Dark Was the Night. This week a friend received one best presents to ever be sent – a teeny tiny USB key filled to the brim with new music! While we sometimes feel utterly and incredibly connected here it is impossible to keep up with everything. In my life, pop culture is floating adrift – I can keep up with news from home, the lives of friends and family, even what is happening at UBC in Student Development! But music, movies, and tv are lost and I admit that I miss these things. So this week, I soothed my musical ear and found one album that both musically and philosophically I resonate with. A collaboration of various artists which supports the Red Hot Organization, an international HIV/AIDs charity organization. Take a listen and soothe your soul.
The hopeful corner of my mind where future dreams are stored. I had a moment today where I once again contemplated a dream that I have carried for about 15 years. I tucked it safely away with confidence that I would revisit it some day. And I haul it out, turn it over, and try it on again (to see if it still fits). Then I tuck it away again waiting for the right moment to tackle it. Well, today I pulled it out and indeed it still fits…in fact it may fit better now that before! Hurrah! I got all queasy and flushed thinking about it…it feels like it might just be the right time to embark on it and I can hardly contain my excitement.

Nepali Cooking Class

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The finale to our 10 week training has been an exciting foray into the world of Nepali cookery. What was a classroom the day before, was transformed into a make-shift kitchen with the addition of a small table top stove and a large canister of gas. The smells of cumin, red chilies, garlic, ginger, and tumeric permeated the small room quickly as we flavoured the oils with spices.

The first dish, although not Nepali, is easily one of the most available snacks in Nepal – french fries! So many potatoes around and deep frying is a common cooking method, so of course the natural outcome is a french fry, here often curiously called “finger fried” on the menus…never fingers and always potato. The best part was the addition of salt and cumin powder for flavour…delish!

Second was the deep frying of what seemed to be mountains of paneer – once fried this was added to a delectable combination of mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, and peas that had melded with spices into a thick, saucy, and utterly incredible curry. Easily, the best Nepali curry I have tasted since I have been here.

Then came the daal and rice – we have all been craving the traditional daal bhaat since returning from our village stay and were eager to get the tips on pressure cooking lentils and legumes. Topped off with fresh papadums, homemade roti, a potato and broccoli curry and some fresh fruit, and we were all simple stuffed to the gills with good food (dherai ukusmukus bhayo which translates to very, very full and cannot eat another bite).

I am looking forward to having a kitchen where I can begin to experiment a bit with the produce and spices to concoct some other great dishes…recipes posted on the blog if they are tasty!

when a villaged opened their hearts

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It has been 7 days since we returned from our week in the small village of Chanku Besi – I have sat many times blankly in front of the computer screen wondering where to start. How to appropriately capture the moments, the emotions, the surprises, the faces, the kindness. It is not an easy task, to be sure, but my hesitation is partly a yearning to be accurate with my words and leave unspoiled the vivid images that will live with me. I want to honour the wonderful people whom I met.

The village sat upon a long and incredibly steep set of rice terraces with my house being at the top of the village, shrouded by leafy trees, jungle, and orange trees. The cold was intense. The nights were pierced with winds whistling through the cracks in the mud and beam structure. I had the bedroom to myself while next stoor my new Nepali family (amaa, baa, bhai, and 2 bahinis) cuddled up in one bed. Mornings were spent with dawn hours around the small kitchen fire drinking chiyaa, laughing, and snuggling with the goats who lived downstairs.

From the doorway, the darkness inside fools one into thinking of dampness, dirt, and discomfort. But rather the house was immaculately clean and comfortable. The only discomfort was the blue stinging smoke during hours of cooking – no chimmney desired as the black soot covering the roof beams protect the wood from termites.

We spent a full 5 days living with our families and then abrubtly on the day of our community project we learned that there would be a bandha in the nearby town the next day – it was called for 3 days which meant we wouldn’t be able to get out in time for Christmas. There was concern for our safety and we had to make the difficult decision to leave that afternoon. It was a very difficult way to leave and with such a rush the goodbyes were not at all what we had meant them to be. With garlands of marigolds around our necks and thick red tikas on our foreheads, we departed. Sadly, heavily, and with much regret.

So rather than paint more pictures with words, I will gladly post some images of our brief and exciting stay in the village. My thanks to H-Bone who took all these photos and a whole bunch more, and painstakingly uploaded all of the them so that I was able to steal them 🙂 Photos from Rex and I coming soon too.

The village of Chanku Besi seen from the top of the rice terraces

The tree where we hung a tireswing the day before we left.

A few of our talented team in front of the school we painted on our final day.

Redefining Normal

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Sometimes what takes the longest or is the hardest or makes you saddest is when what is normal has changed.

What was, is no longer. How things were knew, are no longer. When things we, are no longer. And then, suddenly, normal is normal. A new normal for sure, but not new since it is now the measure of normal.

I am waiting for normal to kick in.

Daily Mundanities

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A few people have asked for a more detailed account of life day to day while we are in training – I promised that I would not turn this blog into a public daily journal, but just this once I will oblige…

We wake at about 5:30am, not because we want to or because we have to, but rather because we have no choice 🙂 The dogs, the birds, the blaring Hindi music…life begins with the sun. After a restless hour of trying to sleep through the chatter we resign ourselves to the fact that awake we must be.

Our small room does have a small bathroom with shower (one kind of showers over and around the toilet so the whole bathroom gets rinsed) so Rex and I take turns having a quick shower. We have the luxury of hot water but it doesn’t last long and with 13 volunteers, the race is always to get the hot shower first. Breakfast is at 8am in the big dining hall – usually semi-toasted toast, toasted over am open gas flame, perhaps a hard boiled egg or some rice pudding, and always some curried chick peas, beans, or potato. And as much chiyaa (tea) as you could want – with milk and spices or black and piping hot.

At 9am we start class in groups of 3-4. We have been in the same groups for a number of weeks so have gotten to know our teachers well. After learning about 20 new vocabulary, 6-10 new verbs, and a new sentence structure we break at 10:45 for chiyaa chuTTi (tea break). This is the time to bask in the sun and warm up…perhaps even remove one of the fleece layers that we added immediately after waking.

More class until 12:30 and then lunch. Lunch is baat (rice), daal (lentils), tarkarri kauli and alu (curried potato and cauliflower), saag (usually radish or mustard greens), achaar (a pickle of some sort) and papads (papadums in Canada). After lunch is almost always a chance to sit in the sun for 1/2 hour and let our minds rest. PLUS…I think we all believe that somehow we can store body heat and release it at night when we are freezing!

Final block of class in the afternoon which is often more of the same, but sometimes a lesson in Nepali script (so we can read signs and perhaps even write a few words) or a culture class on do’s and don’ts, how to use a pit toilet or bathe in public (yes, we do get lessons on that), understanding temple symbols, understanding the caste system, how to eat with your hands etc… All very interesting indeed. And sometimes, if we are very lucky, we have a game or activity. For example, this week we had a Nepali pictionary class and last week we had to go out into the village and chat with people in Nepali.

Usually we end around 3pm and there is a race to the internet cafe for everyone to check email. If we are lucky it is working and we all get a comp. If we are unlucky there is no power or poor connectivity, then we stroll around the town. We buy oranges from the local street vendors or poke into small shops and dig through a strange assortment of things (anyone for olive oil or shaving cream? Plastic flip flops or a metal canister?)

By 6pm it is always dark so we rush home and sit either in the dark or with the gas fumes tingling our senses from the on-site generator…I think I actually prefer the dark. Or candlelight too…that is nice. At 7 we eat..usually the same thing as lunch too…but by dinner we are hungry again so anything tastes good.

After dinner Maybe an hour of BBC news if the power and cable are working, and usually an hour of homework…revising sentence structures, learning new verbs and vocab, or pravcticing our conjugations. Bedtime is usually around 9pm…early early early.

And that’s a day in the life…for now. Next week we leave to stay with a village family for a week…the daily schedule will surely be different.

My first ethical dilemma

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The crowded throngs of people surge through the narrow brick alleys, bumping and tumbling to their destination. My new friend M has just helped me purchase, in broken Hindi, an order of chatipati, puffed rice tossed with vinegar, onion, potato, chili, “sauce”, peas, and fried soybeans/kidney beans. A traditional street food in Nepal it is eaten out of a paper cone off of a broken piece of phone card (complete with serial numbers and prices on the front). It tastes of spicy, dusty, and sour rice – much like if rice crispies were made savoury, spicy.

We munch as we bump our way up the crowded alleys. After our snack I puzzle over the remaining paper cone and shard of calling card. I allow myself to ask the ridiculous question – “where do I put this?”. The quick response from the group is, “toss it on the ground”. I know they are right. It is what everyone does. There isn’t a garbage can on every corner to shuffle away my trash while I sleep at night. But I have trouble tossing it aside. I carry it dutifully the rest of the walk home and clutch it in my hands in hopes of seeing a trash can. And sadly, I end up making it someone else’s problem by leaving it on a restaurant table, inadvertently but somewhat subconsciously. But I cannot spend two years leaving my garbage on someone else’s table…something I will need to sort out over the next few weeks.

Here we go!

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And we are off and drifting…like a plume of smoke from a chimney that starts out contained and ends up dispersing into the atmosphere. I leave Vancouver with a full heart, busy mind, and restless feet. Thank you for being the most amazing friends and family – your warmth, generosity, and love will carry me.